The streets of Falkreath sang the songs of death.
The scent of blood and smoke was rich in the air, and remains of bodies and animals littered the streets.
Houses burned, women cried, men were slaughtered, and amongst it all was Ti'laan and his group of bandits.
Since their arrival, they had only lost one man to a lucky arrow shot by a guard. The death of their comrade only inspired the invaders to fight harder, and in a shocking amount of time they had either killed or driven out most of the residents of Falkreath.
The guards and some select men and women stayed to fight, in the hopes that they might protect their homes and their families. But their aspirations proved fruitless, as Ti'laan and his bandits cut them down mercilessly.
Ti'laan himself fought like a demon from Oblivion, lashing out with fists and claws. Biting, chewing, using his tail to impale his enemies.
The end of his tail was adorned with a polished, Skyforge steel blade. His encounter with Sandros had proved to him that he needed his tail to be more effective, to act as a fifth limb in battle situations such as this.
The blade was forged – unwillingly – by Eorlund Gray-Mane.
Ti'laan had discussed with Guraag the possibility of taking Falkreath, off the Thalmor's advice. Guraag had been in agreement: aggressive expansion would broaden Ti'laan's influence over Skyrim, which would provide more opportunity for black market trade and mining resources – an industry Ti'laan was willing to invest his men into.
Ti'laan had gone to the bandit smiths at the Skyforge and requested a blade for his tail to be created. It had taken days, but at last a blade had been created.
When Ti'laan tried it, it broke on the first strike. In anger, Ti'laan had eviscerated one of the smiths and had left him to bleed out on the stone, so as to teach his subjects that one does not disappoint the king.
He went to the Dragonsreach Dungeon and checked in on the prisoners. They were gradually getting thinner, gradually letting go of their lives, but Ti'laan kept them fed enough for them to stay alive. For these prisoners were the only reason the Empire hadn't razed Whiterun to the ground.
He met Eorlund in his cell and told him what he wanted.
Eorlund spat in his face. This arrogant defiance would prove to be the end of the Nords in future, and Ti'laan hoped he lived long enough to see this future.
Eorlund had made it blatantly obvious that he didn't want to assist the Bandit King, and so it was with a heavy heart that Ti'laan unchained one of the Jarl's children and slowly, slowly, drew a claw up along the child's arm and towards his throat, leaving a deep and painful gash as it went.
The Jarl, afraid and furious, begged Ti'laan to stop and shouted at Eorlund.
"Give him anything he wants!" The Jarl demanded. "I will not let anyone play with the lives of my children."
Ti'laan hid a grin of victory, and led a chained Eorlund to the Skyforge.
Ti'laan told the blacksmith what he wanted, and – reluctantly – the blacksmith made it.
To test the blade, Ti'laan swung at Eorlund's leg, severing it easily.
Eorlund cursed and fell to the ground, suddenly without a leg. He lay on the cobblestone, bleeding out.
"Get over yourself," Ti'laan scoffed. "You're a blacksmith. A missing leg won't impede your work."
Some days later Ti'laan had assembled a force of several hundred bandits, and with sharp weapons, sharp senses, and even sharper tongues, the clan marched through Skyrim unopposed until they reached Falkreath.
The High Elf had been true to her word. As the force passed the Pale Pass they spied the glittering elven armour that denoted the presence of the Thalmor. Ti'laan was almost sure he could spot Elenwen among them, watching the troop of bandits march along the province.
That is what had led them to this moment.
Ti'laan stood among the bodies of what used to be the citizens of Falkreath and watched as they began to pile up. The sight of so much death, so much blood, inspired a thirst in Ti'laan.
An old Nord charged him, brandishing a pitchfork.
With a swipe of his tail, Ti'laan cut through the man at the waist. The body hit the ground, intestines and blood spilling from the oversized wound and glistening in the light of many fires. The only thing keeping the two halves together was the spinal cord, which was visible for the world to see.
Resisting his urge to stop and drink, Ti'laan stepped over the body and continued on his route to the Jarl's Longhouse, leaving a trail of carnage and chaos behind him.
Guards had been ordered to protect the door of the Longhouse at all costs, probably ordered to kill any who would try to enter, Ti'laan assumed.
Judging by the two guards who stood ready by the door, Ti'laan also assumed that his original assumption was correct.
Ti'laan calmly walked up the steps.
"Hey, fellas," he said with a devilish smile.
The two guards drew their swords.
"Step away from the Longhouse, lizard," one of the guards growled.
Ti'laan tilted his head to the side. "Really? A whole war going on in this little city and you're asking me to step away from the Longhouse? Not the women, the children, or the countless citizens that me and my men have killed? Tell me, do any of you understand that I could kill every runt in this city and your Jarl would be left with nothing to rule? Hm?"
The guards said nothing.
Ti'laan sighed. "I guess the City Guard are as hopeless with thinking as they are at defending their own city."
One guard roared and charged Ti'laan, sword held back, poised, ready to dart out at any given time and strike.
The guard thrust forward with his sword. Ti'laan calmly stepped out of the way.
"Now that's no way to treat a guest," he said.
His hand shot out, the flat of his palm striking the guard in the nose, causing it to crumple in within the skull and bleed. The guard cried out and swung his blade in a wild arc. Ti'laan caught the blade with the metal of his gauntlet and pulled it from the guards grip. He backhanded the guard, causing him to crumple to his knees. Ti'laan gripped the guard by the head and twisted, causing his neck to break with a snap and a pop.
The second guard, undeterred by his comrades defeat, rushed Ti'laan and tried to strike him with an overhead slash. The move was sloppy, and Ti'laan easily grabbed the mans arm and, with a push of his hand, broke it at the elbow, causing his radius to protrude from a hole in his skin. The guard howled in pain, and Ti'laan did nothing to help him. Instead, he gripped the protruding bone and yanked it, tearing it from the flesh and skin until in his arm he held the bones that formerly made up the guards hand. The guard weakly swung another sword strike. Ti'laan used the bones to defend, and the blade splintered them. Ti'laan saw his opportunity and thrust the pointed bone into the fleshy part of the guards' neck, causing blood to well up at the wound and block off his windpipe. He left the man to choke on his own blood, and the bone from his own arm.
Ti'laan flung open the doors of the Longhouse and spread his arms as if he were greeting an old friend.
"Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath," he shouted with mocking enthusiasm. "How privileged I am to finally make your acquaintance. I must say, the welcoming party was lacklustre, but if there's one thing I can commend your guards on – specifically the two you stationed at your front door – it's their tenacity."
A half-dozen guards stood in front of the Jarl, who was standing before his throne. The guards held bows that were aimed at Ti'laan, and ready to fire from those bows were flaming arrows.
"Bandit King," Siddgeir said cockily. "You come to my home, slaughter my people, and expect to just walk away?"
"I don't intend to do any such thing," Ti'laan amended.
Siddgeir slit his eyes. "So you desire my throne?" He said darkly. "The Empire would pay me thousands to put you down."
"I sincerely doubt that."
"Pah!" Siddgeir spat. "Men! Fire at will."
The guards drew their drawstrings back.
"I wouldn't," Ti'laan warned.
He sensed them taking aim, looking to plant the arrow in the weakest part of his body.
"I'm giving you the chance to walk away," Ti'laan tried. "All I want is your Jarl."
One of the men shot.
The arrow flew from the bow and sped towards the Argonian.
Ti'laan caught the arrow and hissed as the heat of the fire came so close to his skin.
"Now you've done it," he muttered.
He snapped the arrow in his hand and darted forward, weaving in and out of the trails of fire the arrows were leaving as they were each shot from their bows.
Ti'laan leapt on top of one guard, knocking him down, and mauled his face with his claws. Another guard came to try to be a hero, but Ti'laan's tail lashed out and impaled him. Two more guards drew swords and ran, and Ti'laan flung the impaled guard at them, tripping them over. He jumped over their bodies and landed on the shoulders of another guard, who crumpled under the Argonian's weight. One of the guards had kept with their bow, and fired an arrow. Ti'laan heard it coming and hoisted the fallen guard up, using him as a human shield as the point of the arrow busted through his armour and left a clean hole in his chest. Ti'laan turned back to the two guards he'd tripped and ran at them. They each swung at him with their swords, but he dropped to his knees and slid under the blades. He stood and turned, facing the guards. His tail flicked out, stabbing one of the guards through the chest. The impaled guard dropped his sword, and Ti'laan caught it. He parried the other guards blade and thrust his own deep into the guards sternum, thus removing the fifth enemy from the fray. He sensed an arrow coming and rolled out of the way. He rose to his knees and opened his mouth. His vampiric fangs extended slightly and twin streams of poison shot from them, catching the archer in the eyes. The archer squealed as the venom at away at his eyes, turning them to nothing but sludge. The poison burned through the guards skull until it began to run from his mouth, turning red with the blood that came with it.
Ti'laan waited patiently for the guards cries of agony to end, and then he turned to the Jarl, who was white and shaking on his throne.
"What do you want?" Siddgeir stammered. "Anything, I'll give you anything. Gold, women, name it."
Ti'laan grinned his twisted grin. "I want Falkreath," he said. "And your blood."
In a blink he was in front of the Jarl, hurling him from his throne and pressing the back of his neck against Ti'laan's knee. The Jarl gasped and spluttered, clawing childishly at the Argonian's face, until finally the neck tore, and what would be a fountain of blood spewed from the top.
Ti'laan drank deeply to commemorate this victory over Falkreath, letting the young Jarl's blood spill into his open maw. He savoured every taste, every drop, and at the end he exited the Longhouse to be met with a triumphant roar from his men.
They had won another part of Skyrim.
A/N: Hello all, I hope this chapter filled a gap that chapter 10 didn't. Thanks again for being patient, admittedly I could've been more productive but with school and some other projects I really needed some time for myself.
I really hate that I'm doing this, but I need to self-advertise.
One of the projects that I'm working on is a fic called The Damned and the Fallen. It's set in the Elder Scrolls universe, and it's a collaboration project between myself and a fellow author. It's a work in progress, but we really need some constructive criticism to help grow. We've uploaded three chapters already, and are in the process of writing the seventh (yes, the seventh) so it's not like you guys have nothing to go off. You've been so helpful with this fic, and I really need you again, so thanks.
Also, if you can be bothered, I'm writing a collaborative story with some of my friends called Oh No! Zombies! That story is over on my FictionPress account which you can access via my profile, and while I've only uploaded two chapters we've already written twenty-one. It's not meant to be taken seriously, it's really just a thing we've been doing for fun, but if any of you can check that out I'd really appreciate it.
This has gone on for far longer than I anticipated, so I'll leave you to the other parts of your life. Quick recap: chapter productivity is down due to senior school, but I fully intend to finish this fic. So don't go away.
